Free What a Girl Wants by Kristin Billerbeck

voice is calm. But then my mouth is moving again: “The immigration department?” Ack, I meant to say that silently.
    Dave is nonplussed by my attack. “Just because I’m getting married and you can’t get a date is no reason to be angry with me, Sis,” he says with all the gentleness of a psychologist. “Someone will come along someday. I hear Florida is a good place to find wealthy widowers. Maybe you should put in for a transfer. Of course, I hear they go pretty quickly. Both to marriage and death! Better hurry.” He laughs again.
    I ignore him. “What’s your fiancée’s name?”
    His tone changes. “Mei Ling. She’s from Hong Kong. Her father passed away when they got here, and she’s been living in Michigan for the past ten years.”
    My heart swells for this woman. I don’t know her, but she’s marrying my brother. If that isn’t enough to garner sympathy, I don’t know what is. If Mei Ling was a citizen, I might be more inclined to think she knew what she was getting into, but her immigrant status makes me seriously worried for her long-term happiness. And my brother’s. Yet, I still force thoughts away of myself dancing at their fiftieth wedding anniversary wearing a Haversham gown, bitter that my own day never came.
    “Mei Ling. That’s a pretty name.”
    Now he speaks in a voice I’ve never heard before. It’s gentle and concerned and quite frankly, freaking me out a bit. “She doesn’t know anyone in the family, Ash. She’s going to need a maid of honor, a bridal shower, and whatever else goes on. The whole routine. It’s a long story, but she’s here now, and of course her family can’t come. China won’t let them go—the commies think they won’t return.”
    “Did you say she’s from Michigan?” I ask, but I’m selfishly picturing the bridesmaid’s dress and terror strikes my heart. At its base level, it’s about loss of control. No bridesmaid has control, and what Silicon Valleyite can stand that? “Does she know that maids of honor pick their own gowns? I can take her shopping with me.”
    “Nah, she doesn’t know any of those rules,” he says blindly, and my heart starts beating again. If I have to be maid of honor for a sister-in-law I don’t know, I might as well look gorgeous. “You’ll have to fill her in. She was raised in pretty sparse circumstances.”
    My guilt overwhelms me. “Dave, that’s not really true. The bride picks everything out.”
    “Oh, well, whatever. Mei Ling just wants our family to be happy. Hers won’t be here obviously, and that makes her sad. You’ll do what you can for her, right?”
    The softness in my brother’s voice makes me realize that Mei Ling is not just some sucker on the wrong path of life. He cares about her, and for the first time, I think my brother might not be a total screw-up. A heart really beats inside that lumpy chest of his. Do I dare face that? It’s so much easier to write Dave off for the loser he is and leave him for God to fix.
    “I’m really happy for you, Dave. I really am.” And now I’m tearing up, which ticks me off. Partly because I don’t want to mess up my makeup, and partly because I realize I really do love my brother. I just want him to be a grown-up, and maybe this is God’s way. Allowing him to do what I wanted most, first. Oh, the humiliation!
    “You know, I don’t really think you’re bus bait,” Dave says.
    Okay, now I’m totally freaked out. Dave, reaching out to me? After practically being civil for whole minutes of time at Mom’s last week? “Let’s not go overboard,” I say quickly. Unless a woman over thirty does Dave’s laundry, he sees no use for their walking the planet. “Put Mom back on the phone, will ya?”
    There’s more shuffling and my mother comes back on the line. “It’s so nice to hear you and your brother talking. Aren’t you thrilled to be the maid of honor?”
    “Of course I am.” What does one say to the honor of being held in an esteemed